


Strands of Destiny

by Freya_Druid



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Chaptered, Destiny, Dialogue Heavy, Drabble, Fate, Fate & Destiny, Oneshot, Spells & Enchantments, no longer a oneshot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22155589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freya_Druid/pseuds/Freya_Druid
Summary: Geralt takes Ciri to see a reader of destiny, and has to listen to all the things he doesn’t want to hear.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Green Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little fic that mostly just examines the events of season 1 in about 1,200 words. Based solely on the Netflix series.

Alone in the woods stood a small stone cabin with a withered grass roof. The cabin seemed average enough, if it weren’t for the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere, hours ride from any town, with no road or trail access to speak of. If he didn’t know better the white wolf would have thought it abandoned. The child riding on Roach behind him tightened her grip on the back of his tunic, unsettled by the eerie silence of the woods around them. A firm nudge of his heel urged Roach closer to the cabin, the horse seemed as pleased with this course as the tense girl behind him. When they were still several yards from the cabin he dismounted Roach then lifted Ciri to join him on the ground. Once his horse was tethered to a nearby tree, the pair started toward the cabin.  
“Are you sure we need to do this,” Ciri asked behind him in a hushed tone.  
Golden eyes glanced back at her and a grunt in the positive was all the reaction she was going to get out of him. They came up to the front door of the cabin and Geralt tried the door, only to find it swing wide open when no lock engaged. With a raised eyebrow he stepped forward, intent on examining the inside of the cabin, when he felt as if he had walked face first into a wall.  
“And who, exactly, is trying to enter my home uninvited,” a distinctly feminine voice asked from the darkness within the cabin that not even Geralt’s eyes could penetrate.  
A huff of annoyance escaped the witcher before he answered, “We’ve come to speak to Aleski.”  
Suddenly, as if someone had opened a shutter, light poured out of the cabin doorways and windows. The pair could see now the interior of the cabin, a small space composed of a single room with a fireplace against the wall to the right of the door, a bed near the fireplace, and stacks of books lining the walls. In a single chair near one of the two front windows sat an unexpectedly young woman. She had bright green eyes; long, straight ginger hair; and pale skin splattered with light freckles across her nose.  
“Well are you going to stand there all day or will you come in?” The white haired man tried putting his hand through the doorway first, and when he met with no resistance he recognized that the enchantment on it had been lifted and stepped through. “Why are you looking for me?” Piercing green eyes stared intently at him, passing over Ciri for the time being.  
“I’ve heard tell that you can see the woven strands of destiny,” the witcher did a poor job of hiding his disdain for the word.  
For a moment green eyes stared at gold in silence, then she finally shifted her gaze to the child standing behind him. Her expression gave nothing away as she stood and walked over to the fireplace, which had a tea kettle sitting in the ashes near enough to the low fire to stay warm, and poured herself a mug. She then walked over and sat on the bed pointing Geralt to the chair.  
“Are you sure that is what you want, witcher,” her tone held none of the contempt nor malice for his kind with which he had become accustomed.  
“It’s the last thing I want, but it is what we need,” Geralt grumbled as he gently guided the former princess to take the chair, electing instead to remain standing beside it.  
“And you, princess, what do you want?”  
Ciri glanced at Geralt in alarm, “How do you know I’m a princess?”  
“You wear the title as one wears a cloak, though I doubt you mean to. But you, Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken, the Plentiful Valleyman, the Ultimate Witcher, you collect titles like a hunter collects horns. Yet none truly suit you. What do you want?” The question was directed at the younger girl.  
Ciri timidly met the woman’s gaze, and responded barely above a whisper, “to know the truth.”  
“Very well.” The woman set the mug of tea she had been sipping on on the stone floor beside the bed and turned her gaze on Ciri and Geralt.  
The change in her was subtle, enough so that Ciri did not notice it, but Geralt did. Her breathing slowed and her posture straightened almost imperceptibly, but the true change was her eyes. If they had been piercing before, now they were like daggers, and as her gaze traveled between the witcher and the princess the color of her eyes shifted from that of bright forest moss to something that looked more like a vibrant chartreuse poisonous plant that you warn children not to touch.  
“You are his child of surprise, the second in your line of such a fate, and yet you,” she turned that piercing gaze on Geralt, “you do not believe in fate.”  
“Great, you can see the obvious,” the witcher growled.  
“What is it that you want to know, Geralt of Rivia, the great white wolf?”  
“What lays ahead,” he had to grind the words between clenched teeth, already immensely regretting the decision to seek out this woman.  
“Your fates are entwined, this you know, but what you don’t know is that the fate of the two of you is not only entwined with a third, quite strongly, but with that of every creature on the continent. Normally when I look through fate strings I see connection to a dozen at most, once I even saw a couple hundred or so, but with you I see every creature, every horse, elf, and man on the continent. It’s like looking at a complete tapestry instead of a corner of cloth. What’s more, your future is fractured, and along with it the future of everyone. The decisions you make in the coming months will impact more than just Cintra and Nilfgaard.”  
“Perfect, this has been a waste of time, let’s-” Geralt was in the process of standing a very scared former princess up when he was interrupted.  
“I remind you of her.” Gold eyes snapped to yellow-green.  
“What?”  
“Your mother, the woman who left you to become a witcher or die.” Before he really thought through his actions, the Witcher’s sword was at her throat.  
“What do you know of it,” his voice was little more than a growl.  
“I know your pain. The pain of being abandoned, left to die by the one who should have loved you most. I know that in your heart of hearts you want nothing more than closure on why she did what she did, how she brought herself to leave you there. And I know that like me you have searched and yet found nothing.” The tip of Geralt’s blade slowly lowered, the snarl on his lips was not as easily sheathed.  
“What,” the witcher paused to consider his words. “...outcomes do you foresee in our futures?”  
“Life or death. Either you will succeed, the white flame will be smothered and the continent remain as it is, or you will fail. The continent will fall into darkness under the white flame, Cirilla will be their turning point, and their slave, and you and the other will die.”  
“The other?”  
“Yennefer of Vengerberg, the one who held your heart.”  
“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt anyone is interested in a continuation but if you are let me know in the comments! If I do continue this it will likely be told as a collection of short stories (kind of similar to the show) and will just be my interpretation of where things could go (with my OC included of course).


	2. A Frail Dandelion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not expecting the positive response to my (formerly a) oneshot, so here’s chapter 2. Again this is going to be a series of short (very short) stories that will not be updated with any regularity. Enjoy!

“Destiny has very interesting plans for you,” the redhead said with a wry smirk. “And I can’t wait to see it.”  
Geralt broke his glaring contest with the floor to meet the fate-readers vibrant chartreuse eyes that shifted as he watched to a more organic green. “What?” He didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken.  
“I’m coming with you,” she declared, leaving little room for argument.  
The witcher of course argued anyway, “no you fucking are not.”  
A smirk and raised eyebrow were the only response he had received. 

Amber eyes glanced to the black cloaked figure striding alongside Roach. He was still brooding on the fact that the woman had managed to worm her way into accompanying him and the former princess.  
At least she travels light. He thought as he examined her simple cloak and medium leather pack on her back.  
The princess seemed torn between anxiety over the unfamiliar woman joining them, and gratitude for the female company. As much as he hated to admit it, Geralt knew that the former princess needed more company than he alone could offer. This was cemented by the countless times various women of all ages and dispositions, and a handful of men for that matter, had told him of his poor company and gruff nature. If destiny did exist he couldn’t imagine why he, of all people on the continent, was the chosen caretaker of a child.  
The three had been traveling together for several weeks, ever since the witcher had sought the reader in her home. He wasn’t thrilled with her presence but she also wasn’t the worst traveling companion he had ever had. Plus she had proven useful for watching the former princess while he was working jobs.  
Roach whinnied, pulling Geralt’s attention back to the road before him where a small town was now coming into view. A glance at the sky confirmed that dusk was settling in, and without much debate the Witcher decided to get a room at the local inn, every town had one, as they had been camping outside every night that week.  
Locating the inn was easy, and while the white haired witcher saw to bedding down Roach his two traveling companions went into the tavern on the first floor of the inn. Inside the tavern groups of townspeople merrily commiserated over food and drink. The red haired seer quickly realized that if they were to get some food they would have to share a table with someone, and a quick scan of the room found her a single man, well dressed and somewhat out of place, sat at a moderately large table in the far corner of the tavern.  
Aleski led the former princess with her to approach the well dressed stranger that she now knew was a bard, based on the lute shaped case propped against the edge of the table.  
“Excuse me,” the redhead said, prompting the bard to face her. The reader was immediately struck by a sense of familiarity. “May we share your table?”  
“Yes, of course. I was just wishing for some good company.” Bright blue eyes met vibrant green ones and immediately she realized where the sense of familiarity came from.  
“You’re the infamous Jaskier,” she said with a smirk as her and Cirilla took the seats across from the bard.  
“”I’m sorry, do I know you,” Jaskier’s charming smile didn’t waver as he tilted his head in confusion.  
“No, no one really knows me.” A tap on her arm pulled the redhead’s attention to the child beside her.  
“But how do you know his name,” she asked, gazing innocently at her traveling companion.  
A completely uninformative smirk was all the response the woman gave. It was then that the traveling companions noticed their missing witcher approaching their table. Neither the witcher nor the bard took notice of each other until Jaskier, having noticed the girls looking at something behind him, turned to find the towering form of the witcher directly behind him.  
“Geralt,” the bard almost squeaked in his surprise.  
Meanwhile the witcher was staring blazing amber daggers at the fate reader who was calmly gazing back at him as if nothing were amiss. After a few tense moments the reader rose, “Geralt how about you take my seat while I go order us some food.” She went to move past him but stopped to his side. In a voice soft enough that a normal man would not have been able to pick it out among the clamor of the tavern she said, “either you tell him or I will.” Without another word she left the witcher in search of the establishment's proprietor.  
Ciri gazed at the white haired witcher with barely restrained curiosity as he took the recently vacated seat, but chose to remain silent. The witcher gazed at his friend and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again in doubt. When he next opened his mouth he managed to bite out the words he had long hoped to say to the bard, “I didn’t mean it. What I said on the mountain.”  
The bard searched his amber eyes for a long moment before he spoke in a surprisingly meek tone, “And my fillingless pie?”  
The witcher heaved a sigh, recognizing the corner he was painted into: he could either further swallow his pride and reassure the bard, or he could remain silent and permanently lose a dear friend. “I take back what I said before we unleashed the djinn. I find your singing to be quite tolerable.”  
Jaskier, recognizing that as the best he would get from his friend, broke into a beaming grin as he rose from his seat, reaching across the table towards the witcher. “Geralt, someone’s getting a-”  
“I’m not hugging you,” Geralt stated definitively as he pushed Jaskier back into his seat with a single outstretched palm to the bards shoulder.  
“Right, no hugging,” the bard took a moment to resituate himself in his seat as his gaze flicked to Cirilla. “And who are your companions, Geralt?”  
It was at that moment that the redheaded seer returned to the table with three steins of ale and a stein of water for the former princess divided between her two hands. “Food will be a short while, did you two work things out,” the seer asked as she took the open seat beside the bard and deposited the steins on the table.  
Geralt offered up one of his signature grunts while Jaskier turned to the woman with a look of bewilderment on his face. “I’m sorry but who are you?”  
The seer smiled and turned her head to an already frustrated Geralt. Jaskier turned his attention to the witcher as well, hoping that one of them would end this game and explain. In the end it was Geralt that spoke up, choosing to start with the girl to his right, “This is princess Cirilla of Cintra, you know her as my child surprise.”  
Ciri offered a meek wave when the bard turned his surprised focus on her. The moment of shocked recognition was short lived as Jaskier turned back to Geralt. “Ok but who is this woman? And why does she seem to know all about our disagreement,” the bards voice raised enough to draw the attention of the nearest tavern patrons.  
“Her name is Aleski, and she knows because she’s a,” the witcher paused to sigh. “She’s a fate reader.”  
“A what,” the bard was having trouble believing that he had heard correctly, Geralt of Rivia associating with a seer of destiny seemed as probable as a kikimora sprouting wings.  
“I’m a fate reader, nice to finally meet you Jaskier.” The reader took pity on the witcher and took over the conversation.  
“Ok not to be rude, but why would you associate with a ‘fate reader,’ you hate destiny!” The bard was still addressing Geralt, slightly unnerved by the woman sitting beside him.  
Before the witcher could answer the reader interjected, “You don’t believe in my abilities. Which is fair, not many do. In fact the only reason Geralt here even thought of coming to me was because of the testimony of another witcher that I had saved from a rather nasty wraith in the woods near my cabin. If you would like a demonstration I could always read you, Julian Afred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.” Her tone held a playful note of daring, as if trying to goad the bard into saying yes.  
The bard finally turned to face the woman sitting beside him. “Oh, we are so doing this,” he said in a tone that managed to be goading, skeptical, and slightly unnerved all at once.  
“Jaskier, don’t-” the white haired witcher tried to stop his friend but the jittery bard cut him off before he could defuse the situation.  
“No Geralt, I want to see this supposed power, read away, what’s my destiny,” Jaskier addresses the last part in challenge to the redhead.  
Vibrant green eyes focused on dazzling crystal blue as the seer gazed intently at the bard, almost as if she were trying to gaze directly into his soul. For Aleski the tavern, the tavern patrons, even her traveling companions all faded away as she narrowed her focus to the man sitting beside her, turning to face him as fully as she could on the bench they were seated upon. Jaskier could almost swear that her eyes had been a more earthen green a moment ago, now they were the vibrant green of a toxic tropical plant that almost tinged on yellow. For a brief moment the world fell away as the two stared at each other, then the moment ended and the lively tavern flooded the bards senses just as the seer opened her mouth to speak.  
“Your path intersects with many, far more than the average person. Kings and queens, elite court correspondents and noble lords, counts and common folk. You live and love full heartedly and it gets you into trouble more often than you would admit. But the person whose path is most tangled with yours is none other than our dear witcher here. Your fates are not bound, but they meet at numerous points, past, present, and future.”  
“Not bad,” the bard remarked, trying very hard not to let his growing unease show. “But tell me something I don’t know.”  
“The Countess de Stael will welcome you back to her bed after,” the redhead paused and a light blush dusted her freckled features. “Seven interim lovers, four of which will be affairs and two will get you into trouble farther down the line. Shall I name each one and describe the encounter for you?”  
At this the bard sputtered. “No, don’t look at my private matters.”  
A deadpan look met the musicians' indignation. “If I could pick and choose what I see I would, believe me.”  
For a moment silence reigned thick between the group, Ciri looked on with wide eyes and Geralt sipped his ale. Finally Aleski was the one to break the silence as she pulled her pack from her back and began to rummage through it, “If that satisfies your curiosity, here.” She pulled a small item from her bag and handed it to the bard. “Consider it a peace offering, place it in your lute case or otherwise keep it on your person and it will help to protect you.”  
Jaskier tentatively took the offered item, half expecting it to bite him, and found what appeared at first glance to be a thick chunk of broken black glass, the edges had been carefully dulled and the fracture lines were swirling and circular across the surface of what the bard now identified as obsidian. It could have been the singer's imagination but he could swear he felt the small crystal vibrating with the magic it contained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, bookmarked, or left kudos! Let me know what you thought of part 2 and if you still want to see more. The first thing on my priority list for this fic was fixing things between Geralt and Jaskier. Honestly I have a bunch of loose dialogue lines and stuff for this fic but most of it will probably never make it in here. Regardless, I’ve updated the rating to be on the safe side (violence and Geralt’s foul language) and because if I keep going I was considering pairing Geralt x Aleski in the future of this fic (someone tell me no). Thank you to my unwitting beta reader, Uriel.


	3. Man on a Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is up with Geralt and his companions need to figure out what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm still pressing on with this one, if anyone is still reading this please let me know by commenting or leaving Kudo's. I have a rough idea of where I'm taking this now. Please remember that I have not read the books so this is a continuation of Netflix's The Witcher pulled purely from my imagination and will not be accurate to how the books or (when it eventually come out) season 2 go. I have however just finished playing The Witcher 3 so you may catch some subtle references to that in future chapters. Thanks as always to my unwitting beta reader/best friend. Also credit for the enchantment to Cunningham's Encyclopedias.

Ripples. Ripples and whispers, the extent of what had reached the white wolf to send him on this quest. He had heard fragments over the months since the battle of Sodden Hill, first that Nilfgaard had been, for now, forced back by the north. Then that the first day of battle had been not between Nilfgaard and the northern kingdoms but between Nilfgaard and the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. Then that the faction of sorcerers that battled Nilfgaard had been rogue, the survivors later arrested by the Brotherhood. And finally that a violet eyed mage had single handedly wielded ‘hellfire itself’ to take out scores of Nilfgaardian soldiers, only to mysteriously disappear afterward. This obvious allusion to Yennefer of Vengerberg set the witcher in motion, determined to ensure that she was safe, wherever she was.   
His traveling companions immediately took notice of the foul turn of his mood, and while the boisterous bard had tried his best to get the truth out of his old friend, he was unable to penetrate the witcher’s stubbornness. Finally the red headed seer confronted the witcher, fed up with not only his attitude of late but also with being kept in the dark.   
“Where are we going Geralt, we’ve been traveling west for days now, you clearly have a destination and reason in mind but you haven’t told us anything. Either use your words or I’ll use my eyes. It’s your choice.” Fiery green eyes glared up at annoyed amber ones, the anger radiating from her more than made up for the vast height difference between the two.   
Geralt broke the glaring contest to look behind her where Jaskier and Ciri sat at today’s campsite, both not so subtly listening to the exchange between the witcher and the seer. Heaving a sigh heavy with weeks of pent emotion, Geralt returned his attention to the seer, keeping his voice loud enough for the rest of the party to hear, “Yennefer.”  
At this the bard jumped up from his position at their small fire to storm over to his friend in a rush of agitation and indignation. “Wait, Yennefer Yennefer? As in the witch that was hellbent on getting a dragon’s heart and used mind control on you, that Yennefer?” The bard got an annoyed grunt in response. “Why on earth would you want to seek her out?”  
Geralt was already tired of this conversation, he hadn’t told his companions because he knew that at the very least Jaskier would object to this venture. “She was at the battle of Sodden Hill, she disappeared, I need to know she’s alright,” the witcher ground out through clenched teeth.   
“Geralt, every time you see her things go horribly and completely awry,” the bard declared emphatically.   
“Where are we headed,” the calm tone of the seer brought both men up short.   
“Aretuza.”  
“As in the brotherhood of Sorcerers school,” the bard couldn’t believe what he was hearing from the witcher.  
Another annoyed grunt from the witcher and a weary sigh from the seer. “Aretuza is no place to bring Ciri, if they discover her power they will do everything in theirs to prevent her leave,” the seers tone suddenly held a weight of exhaustion to it.   
“How do you know anything about Aretuza, did you study there,” it was Jaskier that gave in to curiosity first and asked.   
Green eyes met blue as the seer replied, “I didn’t study anywhere. I’m an enchanter, not a sorceress, what I know I learned from books and reading others. The same can be applied to my knowledge of Aretuza. The point remains, if we are to go to the mages school we cannot charge in blind and unprepared. Even if we are able to gain an audience with the rectress we would be wise to leave Ciri and myself or Jaskier behind in a neighboring town. Furthermore I think it would be in all of our best interests to prepare some protective charms beforehand, there’s no guarantee that my charms will hold up to Aretuza’s magic but it’s worth a try. Also I gave my only piece of obsidian to Jaskier.”  
Geralt gazed intently at the seer for a moment, trying not for the first time to decipher her motives. “What do you need?”  
“A well stocked market may have the supplies I need, several pieces of black stone, preferably obsidian but onyx or tourmaline will work, and black pepper and petitgrain oils.”  
“Wait, you're ok with this? You know what she did to him,” the bard was practically yelling by this point.   
The seer heaved a heavy sigh before turning to fully face the bard. “Jaskier my opinion matters not, I came along as an observer and that is what I intend to do with minimal interference. If you would like to discuss my philosophical stance on the matter then let it be a discussion for another time. For now I believe you and Geralt have a conversation that needs to take place.” With that she turned on her heel and strode over to the campfire to begin preparing the evening meal.   
Jaskier threw his arms up in exasperation, knowing he wouldn’t get much help from the redhead. “Geralt, you cannot seriously want to chase down that witch. After how you parted I doubt she will want to see you,” it was a bit of a low blow to bring up that argument but the bard was desperate for his friend to see reason.  
The witcher glanced up from the rock he had been glaring at, “I need to know she’s safe.”  
It was Jaskier’s turn to sigh, this time in defeat. “Fine, do you know where we can gather Aleski’s supplies?”  
“We’re two days walk from White Bridge, they should have a large enough market.”  
The seer piped up from her spot stoking the campfire, “Geralt, how much coin do you have?”  
All eyes once again on the seer, Geralt replied, “Enough to cover your supplies and a couple nights board at an inn for Jaskier and Ciri.”  
“Hey, why do I have to stay behind with Ciri,” the indignant bard squawked.  
“Because a couple nights could easily turn into weeks and you can make extra coin to cover your stay. I doubt the seer would like doing palm readings to make the coin.”  
The expression on Jaskier’s face clearly indicated that he wanted to argue the point but didn’t have anything useful to say.   
Finally it was Ciri that broke the heavy silence, “What if Nilfgaardian spies find me and Jaskier, can we really stay in one place that long without someone taking notice?”  
The witcher turned a thoughtful eye on his charge. “If Aleski and I fail to check in after a week’s time the two of you will move on to another town, think you can handle that Jaskier?”  
The bard rolled his eyes indignantly, “Yes Geralt, I’m not a child I can keep track of the days.”  
An unamused grunt was the witchers only response.   
A thought occurred to the bard, “Wait a second, if it isn’t safe for Ciri to go to Aretuza is it really safe for someone with Aleski’s abilities?”  
All eyes turned to the seer at this, “The danger for me is much less than Ciri, firstly I’m an adult and they only train adolescents and children. Also I’m an enchantress, not a sorceress, they view enchantment as a lesser form of magic because I cannot directly manipulate animate matter, and as for my abilities as a seer that’s where the protective charms come in. There’s a slight chance that they will see through the charm's effects but that chance is minimal so long as I don’t actively use my abilities.”  
Jaskier once again threw his arms in the air in indignation, “Of course, and the rectress of Aretuza is just going to hand over information about Yennefer to some random witcher and a ‘lesser magician!’”  
Geralt turned an icy glare on the bard. “Do you have a better plan?”  
In an uncharacteristically small voice the bard replied “No.” Then in a more confident tone, “But what if something goes wrong at Aretuza? What if you and Aleski are detained or just don’t make it back?”  
The seer responded when the silence between the bard and the witcher stretched on for a beat too long, “That is why you and Ciri will stay behind in the neighboring town, if we fail to return you will move on and keep moving until we find you again.”   
Geralt glanced at the seer with a curious tilt to his left eyebrow but remained silent, when he saw Jaskier looking at him to refute that statement he simply shrugged in agreement with her.


	4. Big City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finally makes it to White Bridge, and the first step in their plan is underway.

White Bridge was a fairly large settlement on the banks of the Pontar. Due to its location it was a center of trade and thus would likely have the materials the group sought. When they arrived the group went to the town center where a fairly large marketplace was set up.   
“Watch Ciri,” Geralt practically growled at the bard before turning to stare expectantly at the seer.   
“I’ve never before been to this market so it may be best if we split up and look for what we need, a stone seller or jeweler and an oil seller or apothecary,” the redhead replied to the witcher’s unspoken question.   
And so the witcher and the seer began looking into various stalls while the bard and child stood awkwardly in the town center.   
“We’ll be at the tavern,” Jaskier called after Geralt, ushering Ciri in the direction of the local tavern they had passed on their way to the market.   
Meanwhile the seer’s attention was drawn to a sign on a building at the far corner of the market indicating the local apothecary. She deftly picked her way through the crowded street and ducked inside the shop. Inside was a small room with shelves lining the walls, each packed with various jars and bottles; dried herbs hung from the ceiling and a stout woman entered the room from a small doorway off to the left of the door through which the seer had entered.   
“Welcome, what is your ailment,” the woman asked in a stern tone that would seem almost motherly were she a little older.   
“No ailment, but I was hoping to purchase some oils from you. Do you have black pepper and petitgrain oils,” the seer asked in a respectful tone.   
“Aye, we do. Petitgrain oil is hard to come by, it will cost more.”  
“I am aware, thank you.” At that the stout woman turned on her heel and disappeared into the room she had come from.   
A moment later she reappeared carrying two medium sized containers, one a simple corked ceramic jar, the other a small glass pitcher with clear oil visible inside. “How much’ll you need?”  
“A small vial of both please.”  
The stout woman nodded and moved over to the counter pressed against the wall opposite the entrance. Out of the cupboard below the counter she pulled two small ceramic vials and a wood funnel. With great care she poured equal quantities of the oil into each vial. With that done she turned, the two vials in hand and the rest forgotten on the counter, to face the redhead. “That’ll be 100 orens.”   
The seer pulled the small coin purse Geralt had given her earlier out and counted out the coin, passing it to the stout woman in exchange for the vials. “Thank you,” with that and a nod the seer turned and exited the apothecaries shop.   
Outside she began looking for the white haired witcher, which didn’t take long. Geralt was engaged in a quickly escalating debate with a red faced portly man in a stall across the marketplace. Quickly making her way to the pair, Aleski assessed the situation.   
“I won’t sell to a bloody mutant,” the man declared loud enough for half the market to hear.   
Geralt growled in reply, “Listen here, you little-“  
“What about me,” Aleski interjected calmly before the witcher came any closer to losing his temper.   
“You,” the round man asked with a barely contained sneer, eyeing the seer up and down.   
“Yes, will you sell to me? After all, Geralt here was only attempting to buy on my behalf.”  
The witcher sent her a curious glance but remained otherwise silent.   
“Fine, I’ll sell to your wench,” the man grumbled.   
Geralt bristled at the term but a sharp look from the seer kept him silent. Aleski exchanged the last of the small coin purses contents for a set of 4 small black stones, the shape and weight made her think tourmaline.   
“That wasn’t so hard, was it.” Geralt bristled at the shop owner who’s face had just started to turn flesh colored again but now reverted to its original beat red pigment. Before anything further could be said, the witcher ushered the seer away from the angry jeweler. 

The tavern wasn’t even half full, it was early afternoon after all, so it was easy for the witcher to pick Jaskier and his charge out from the meager crowd. Sitting down across from the bard, Geralt waved over the tavern's serving girl.   
“An ale please,” he stated simply to the girl who scurried away as soon as she had the Witcher’s order.   
“So did you find what we came for,” the pragmatic bard asked.   
A grunt was the only reply the white haired witcher gave. So once again the seer took over, “With minor inconvenience, yes.”   
She placed the pieces of tourmaline on the table then reached in her bag and grabbed the two small vials of oil.   
“Ok, now what,” Jaskier asked the obvious question.   
“Now we figure out where we’re going to be staying for the night. I haven’t done this many enchantments of this power at once before but I assume I’m going to be rather tired afterwards.”  
“But aren’t you just enchanting some rocks,” it was Ciri that gave into curiosity.   
Aleski smiled at the child, “it’s a little bit more complicated than that, I can explain everything as I do it if you like?”  
The wide eyed girl nodded.   
“Right, a room for the night,” Jaskier asked in his ever cheery tone. “My treat,” he added as an afterthought. 

They ended up renting two rooms at the local inn, which was a separate establishment to the tavern due to the fact that they were in a much larger settlement than they usually frequented. With Roach comfortably bedded down in the stable and their bags in hand the group found themselves crowded into one of the rooms that Jaskier had rented. Though it was a little crowded for all four of them to fit in at once, there were two small beds and a wardrobe to put their bags in. The seer plopped down on one of the beds and withdrew the stones and oils from her bag, which she then set carefully on the floor beside the bed.   
“Are all of you intent on staying,” the seer asked as she glanced up at her companions.   
Ciri, who had joined her on the relatively small bed, nodded excitedly, Jaskier said “And miss this?” And Geralt released an unamused grunt.   
“Right, ok,” the seer turned to the witcher, “Geralt do you have a bowl or cup?”  
The white haired man silently left the room only to return a moment later with a fairly large wooden bowl which he handed to the seer.   
“Excellent, thanks.” The seer sets the bowl on the bed before her, next to the vials of oil and pieces of stone. “So Ciri, have you ever seen an enchantment before?”  
The former princess shook her head, “No, Mousesack didn’t enchant objects, when he cast magic it was always direct.” For a moment the girl looked more sad than anyone her age ever should be, but she shook it off quickly and returned her focus to the redhead. “So what do you do first?”  
The seer smiled kindly at the child, “First I charge and tune the individual components. This is done by funneling some of your energy into the oil or stones, with that energy you can tune the item to the purpose you want, in this case protection. You have to tune everything because most items in the natural world have multiple uses in magic.”  
Aleski picked up one of one of the vials of oil and uncorked the lid, she closed her eyes and held the vial cradled in both hands. Everyone in the room leaned in as the subtle scent of black pepper filled the room. After a moment the seer opened her eyes, now a vibrant teal color, and poured the oil into the bowl. She set the vial aside and picked up the second one, uncorking and cradling it to her chest just as she had the first. This time the subtle scent of citrus filled the room as she poured this vial's contents into the bowl as well. Next she systematically charged the four pieces of tourmaline in the same fashion, depositing each beside the bowl.   
She looked a little pale and her eyes remained the same teal color but the group could see no obvious change to the stones or oils. “Next you combine the ingredients,” she scooped the tourmaline pieces off the bed and deposited them in the oil, rolling each piece so it was thoroughly coated, “and seal the ingredients together, completing the enchantment.”   
She picked the whole bowl up, setting it in her lap then brought both hands up to hover above the bowl. The crimson haired seer muttered under her breath as she held her hands over the bowl. Before their eyes the stones shimmered and then it was as if the stones had turned into dry cloth as they began to soak up the oil until the bowl and stones were dry, the only remnants of the oil being the lingering scents of bitter orange and black pepper. After a few seconds the shimmer seemed to fade from the stones till they were once again matte black.   
“And that is how you perform a basic enchantment,” as she spoke, Aleski’s eyes shifted from vibrant teal back to her more subdued earthen green tone. Turning her attention to Ciri the seer asked, “Do you have any questions?”  
“Can you teach me how to do enchantments someday,” the wide eyed former princess asked.   
The redhead looked to the white haired witcher to gauge his reaction before she responded, “If I travel with you long enough and Geralt agrees, yes I will try to teach you.”  
Ciri broke out in a grin as she turned to face Geralt with a look that was a cross between joy at the promise and pleading that he’ll permit it. The witcher released a noncommittal grunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find the Elder translations for the incantation I wanted Aleski to say so I had her mumble, sorry. I believe I am essentially writing this for myself at this point but if anyone is in fact reading this leave me a comment and tell me what you think! As always, thanks to my faithful beta reader, Uriel.


	5. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Aleski are on their way to Aretuza while Ciri and Jaskier settle in for their stay in a small town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Uriel. Also sorry for the delay on this one, life's been crazy.

“Ok, everyone choose a stone,” the seer stated, holding out the bowl to the group. As instructed Ciri and Geralt picked out their stones but Jaskier hesitated. “You too, Jaskier. Better you have an extra in case something happens to either you or Ciri’s stones and you need a replacement.” The bard plucked a stone out of the bowl, as did the seer who then handed the bowl back to the white haired witcher. “Keep the stones on you, in a pocket or something you’ll carry, they can’t work if they aren’t on your person.”  
Everyone obediently placed the small black stones in their pockets, even the former princess who had long since lost the clothes she had fled Cintra in. Her newfound guardian had replaced her tattered and stained skirt, shirt, and vest with sensible brown trousers and a light cream tunic; though he had allowed her to keep her cloak at her insistence, after he laundered it of course. It was now the thick of winter and the heavy cloak barely managed to keep the cold at bay when outside the warmth of the inn.   
The group spent the rest of the day resting up for their continued journey before they departed for the next settlement on their way to Aretuza. 

Somewhere south-west of Oxenfurt Academy, in a small town called Eliandra, the witcher, his charge, the bard, and the seer found themselves in a small tavern/inn. The group were having their evening meal when Geralt broached the subject that had sat heavy in the silence between them.   
“Tomorrow Aleski and I continue on to Aretuza, you will stay here with Ciri,” he directed towards the vigorous bard.   
“One week then we move on, I know,” Jaskier replied calmly, though with a slight pout to his features.   
“Are you sure we need to stay behind,” it was Ciri that voiced her nervous doubts.  
Before the white haired witcher could respond with more than a sigh, Aleski spoke up, “Ciri, would it be comforting if I read you and Jaskier and told you whether anything would happen before Geralt and I return?” The child considered it for a moment before meeting Aleski’s mossy eyes and nodded. “Jaskier, may I,” the seer questioned, to which she got a nod. She took a deep breath and focused on the pair who was sitting across from herself and Geralt. As her eyes took on a yellowed tint to their mossy green the rest of the tavern became irrelevant. “There are a few possibilities of what will happen, Geralt and I may be gone for more than a week, in which case you will move on and we will catch up with you in a couple towns, however this seems less likely. Jaskier, keep the obsidian and the tourmaline on you, jealous husbands are a pain in the ass.”  
“Wait, what,” the bard squawked.  
Ignoring the bard completely the seer continued, “You will be fine, don’t worry. Use your better judgement and don’t draw unnecessary attention to yourself, and we will see you again soon.”  
“Will someone tell me what that cryptic warning meant,” Jaskier asked in a slightly higher pitch than he normally spoke.   
The witcher rolled his eyes then replied, “Don’t hide your sausage in any pantries while we’re gone, royal or otherwise.”  
The bard’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click and noticeable pout.

At first light the following morning, the former princess and the normally energetic bard who was still apparently half asleep had breakfast with, and then bid farewell to the redheaded seer and white haired witcher. As they watched the witcher and the seer ride away on Roach, a rare feat indeed as Geralt normally never let anyone aside from the young former princess ride the loyal mount, said former princess clutched at Jaskier’s bright blue doublet.   
“Let’s go back inside, shall we,” the bard said in a cheery voice that contradicted the growing trepidation of his smaller companion. A meek nod was the only response he got and, with a nod, he led the blonde haired girl into the town tavern which doubled as the local inn. Walking up to the owner of the establishment behind the long counter next to the staircase, Jaskier started in a jovial voice, “My good man, would you be terribly opposed to my playing the evenings rush?”  
The surly barkeep raised an eyebrow and shrugged, “S’pose not.”  
“Excellent,” Jaskier exclaimed. “Also, we’ll be renting the big room with 2 beds for the week.” He nodded at the barkeeper and turned on his heel before he received a response, ushering Ciri up the stairs and to their room. Once they were in their room Jaskier turned to Ciri, “Well there’s not much to do but I suppose we could play a game?”  
Ciri smiled, “No thanks, Aleski’s gave me a book after we went to our room last night. I think I’ll read that.”  
The bard gave an indifferent shrug and left the former princess to her own devices as he turned towards his own notebook, intent on reviewing his latest lyrics. 

“When a humble bard,” Jaskier strummed on his faithful lute, singing along as the evening rush suddenly fell quiet, turning towards him.   
Ciri sat in the corner of the room, eating her meal as the crowd fell under her counterparts spell. They had now been here for 3 days and had managed to find a routine, they would wake up, have their morning meal, Ciri would try to decipher the rather complicated book on the Elder races that Aleski had given her while Jaskier would write in his journal or practice with his lute, then when it was time for the evening meal Jaskier would entertain the masses while Ciri ate and observed quietly in the corner. After Jaskier had basked in the affection of his adoring, if slightly few in number, fans for most of the night he would join Ciri for his meal after which they would both retire for the night.   
Tonight started out no different, Jaskier playing some of his favored songs for a slightly larger crowd than the night before, Ciri observing impassively from her corner.   
“The fairer sex, they often call it,” Jaskier started in on his next song. By the time he got to the chorus a woman had stood up and started to dance. Soon many more were dancing along to the ballad.   
As the song came to an end Ciri watched as the small crowd of dancers dispersed with giggles and laughs. The first woman that had started to dance wandered over to where the frenetic bard was sipping a cup of ale in between songs and started talking with him. The pair were across the tavern and thus too far away for the blonde haired girl to hear what they were saying over the din of the tavern but she could see the way the woman slanted her hips and twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. When the woman laid a hand on Jaskiers arm and moved a step closer to him, the former princess decided she had seen enough and quietly slipped away from the empty dish before her and made her way upstairs to her room.   
Silently closing the door behind herself, Ciri made her way over to her bed and sat down against the headboard, pulling out the book Aleski had given her. The book, titled ‘The Elder Races and the Conjunction of the Spheres,’ was a deceptively simple looking leather bound tomb. She opened the book to the chapter that she was on and settled down, determined to do her best to decipher the rather technical writing while saving her questions for Jaskier for later.   
“Ok, next chapter. ‘Elder Blood.’”

It was well past dusk, Ciri had been reading by the light of the candles for some time now, when the door to the room burst open revealing a disheveled Jaskier. He was carrying one of his boots, his doublet was untucked and unbuttoned, his tunic beneath was partially open as well, and his hair was a tousled mess. Ciri looked up with wide eyes as he violently slammed the door behind him, all but collapsing against it as soon as it was securely locked.   
“Oh thank the gods, those little charms seem to actually work.” Jaskier finally looked over to the former princess to find her with tears in her eyes. “Ciri, what’s wrong?”  
“Do I have Elder Blood?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So out of curiousity would anyone like to read the little encounter Jaskier went on while away from Ciri? If not we will be continuing as planned in the next chapter. As always kudos and comments mean the world, thank you.


End file.
